


Stubborn to a Fault or Two

by breatheforeverypart



Series: Watson the Service Dog and his Partner-in-health, Bucky Barnes [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, C-PTSD, Gen, M/M, People are rude, Service Dogs, TBI, Trauma, Triggers, crowds are triggering, traumatized Bucky Barnes, working SD team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart
Summary: Nice, if not oppressively hot weather and stir crazed super soldiers and a Service Dog are key ingredients to an impromptu outing.  They gear up in face masks, snacks and a loose plan for the morning and head out into NYC.It can't be that easy though, can it?  Triggers abound, because PTSD doesn't take a break.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James Barnes / Watson the Service Dog, Luke Cage/Jessica Jones
Series: Watson the Service Dog and his Partner-in-health, Bucky Barnes [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758628
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Stubborn to a Fault or Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixSys20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSys20/gifts).



> Hi friends! This story does take place in current conditions and is inspired by my own experiences as one-half of a working SD team. My furry partner in health and I did have a not-so-great-public-interaction this past week, so this is a PSA to be kind to any working teams you may see out in public. <3 Stay safe and take care!

***

Watson was sprawled across the cushions, completely asleep. His paws twitched in concert with his whiskers. Quarantine hair also applied to the large poodle, he was certainly shaggier then usual, but Bucky couldn’t summon the energy to groom him properly. 

Watson was exhausted by the morning’s events, he deserved to rest. Weapons didn’t deserve anything. 

Bucky curled into the corner of couch, his upper body propped up between the arm and back of the plump piece of furniture. He scrolled aimlessly through apps on his phone. He could barely coordinate breathing and thinking, let alone plan moving his body anywhere. 

Steve studied the jigsaw puzzle that occupied the dining room table. Several boxes unopened puzzles were stacked on one of the chairs. Natasha had stocked up on a decent supply of entertainment just as the pandemic was building up to mandatory quarantine procedures worldwide. Steve huffed approvingly at Wanda’s progress. She spent most nights crouched at the table, assembling puzzle after puzzle in an effort to avoid nightmares. 

Wanda had recently joined the ranks of the insomniac club and devoured 1,000-piece puzzles on a weekly basis. “Stubborn. Punk fits right in with us.” He muttered. Steve was not sure who he was referring to, Barnes and Maximoff both fit the description. At any rate, she welcomed anyone to work on the puzzle which is why Steve found himself drawn into the challenging Star Wars one. 

“Hmm.” Bucky’s eyes closed involuntarily. “Who?” He regained his speech an hour or so after Steve had managed to get him settled in the Common Room. 

“You.” He held the poster that magnified the puzzle’s complete picture. He zeroed in on an area of puzzle that consisted mostly of stars. 

Sunday was unstructured as far as activities were concerned. Everyone who lived at the Tower did their own thing. The last six months had undoubtedly influenced routine and errands. This weekend the Tower was mostly empty. Sam finally had permission to visit his favorite aunt. He had filled the kitchen with dozens of muffins in preparation for all of the staff at her facility. 

Bruce had convinced Wanda and Peter to join him for yoga. Both kids were brimming with raw talent and youthful energy. “It’s okay to nap.” Steve carefully broached the subject, trying to sound casual. Banner knew better than most, even among the Avengers how important self-care skills were to develop in youth. 

“No.” Bucky declared, moving his head gingerly. 

Steve shifted his attention from the puzzle to the living room. “Why?” Their morning had been spent outside of Stark Tower. The city had become restless over the past six months. Now that the parks were open, as long as masks were worn, the city was beginning to come out of hibernation. The state-of-the-art gym did not hold the same appeal as being outdoors, Steve craved nature. 

Bucky had seemed okay, he certainly wanted to take Watson to the dog park. They favored one near Washington Square Park, early on Sunday mornings. Steve knew how much he loved the dog, just by how early he was willing to get up on a weekend. 

After the park they had treated themselves to coffee, bagels and a leisurely stroll through a couple stores for their weekly provisions. 

“Don’t need to.” He mumbled. Bucky’s eyes remained closed, his head balanced precariously on his prosthetic hand. 

“Buck.” Steve’s stomach flipflopped. He was not sure if his partner’s lethargy was a sign of an impending seizure, or just exhaustion. 

“Sleep is weak. Weapons do not need.” He slurred, his words becoming accented. The phone dropped out of his hand and Bucky stared into space. 

Steve jostled the table as he made his way into the living room. “Watson, lap up.” He commanded. 

The dog blinked and flipped onto his stomach. He leapt onto the couch to paw at Bucky. 

The man jolted upright, his arms flying up towards his face protectively. His hand connected with Steve’s face, sending him stumbling onto the carpet. Bucky’s prosthetic caught Watson’s neck, tipping him off the couch. 

***

The ice pack numbed his fingers, but did nothing for the pulsing under his cheek. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He took the pandemic hairstyle to the extreme. The man-bun look had been sexy before, but now he could braid most of it back. Steve loved being able to touch Bucky’s hair, it spoke volumes towards the progress he had made. 

Bucky twitched in his sleep, a string of drool leaving a trail along Steve’s shorts. “Thanks buddy.” He nodded at Watson, who stretched and sighed at his feet. 

After intense negotiations, Bucky had agreed to take one of his emergency meds. The dose was altered to account for his version of the serum. As a result, Bucky fell asleep about fifteen minutes after taking the pill. 

At top speed, Steve had collected a glass of water, ice pack and dish towel from the kitchen. Now that Bucky was snoring in his lap, he shifted focus to himself. 

Physically, his eye wouldn’t even bruise. His healing factor worked miracles. Emotionally, he would like to go for a nice dozen miles at a moderate pace. Chocolate milk would be good too. He loved a cold glass of soy milk with a squirt of Hershey’s syrup. 

Watson was okay. He had checked over the dog, making sure that his fall from the couch had not resulted in any injuries. He had a belly full of treats and was dozing along the edge of the couch, on the plush carpet. 

“What happened today?” Steve mused, thinking back to the start of their morning. 

***

Bucky had been awake before the sun, restless and tangled in the top sheet. Steve woke in fits and starts several times before fully coming to consciousness. 

Anxiety radiated from Bucky like heat. Before Steve could formulate a non-threatening way to ask what was wrong, Bucky catapulted a defense. 

He had asked Watson if he wanted to go to the P-A-R-K, tapping the comforter to get the dog’s attention. Evasive maneuver via service dog, Steve thought. 

Naturally, Watson woofed his agreement. He cocked his head at Bucky, wide awake and hopeful. Watson stuck his butt in the air, tail wagging excitedly. Bucky offered Steve a tight smile, while avoiding eye contact. 

The morning progressed quickly from that decision. Steve proceeded with his preparations, aware of the gathering storm clouds. 

He added a couple of grounding items to his backpack that held water and snacks. According to his partner, Steve got ‘hangry’ if he didn’t eat snacks regularly throughout the day. He attributed his metabolic abnormalities to the super serum. 

Steve had a loose idea of what he wanted Sunday morning to look like, but was ready to adapt a moment’s notice. They had not had a proper date in a couple months. Quarantine dates often resulted in group movie nights, family meals cooked together or bags of take-out and game nights over video chats. 

Time spent outdoors before the temperature got truly unbearable would make for a nice date. Steve had learned that on bad days, the motto was to ‘always have an exit strategy’. So, he planned a handful of options for what they could do after the dog park.  
He wandered around the kitchen, making an old-fashioned shopping list on a small legal pad as he munched on a banana. 

Bucky muttered to himself and Watson. Steve noticed that he lost track of what he was doing a couple of times. He restrained himself from intervening and let Watson do his thing. 

He nudged Bucky’s leg and stepped on his feet. Bucky blinked at the dog’s tasking and resumed packing Watson’s boots into a crossbody bag. 

Steve debated calling off the outing altogether, but was not sure if changing ‘the plan’ would make things better or worse for Bucky. 

***

Steve brought his hand to his face, attempting to itch his cheek, only to scratch at the mask. It was hot, and he didn’t like how the fabric clung to his mouth and nose. He walked around the doggy oasis, maintaining a visual of his partner and Watson at all times. 

People were more difficult to read when they wore masks. He was happy that people were taking steps to minimize the spread of COVID-19, but it made outings more stressful. 

Bucky kept his back against a tree at the dog park, refusing to leave even after the fourth dog dribbled pee on his leg. He wore a mask, which was a huge trigger for him. His arms were crossed, body defensive and scanning the environment for threats. 

Watson lapped all the other dogs in the park. He ran along with a pack of huskies that frequented the park most weekends at dawn. 

When Watson’s tongue hung out of his mouth and he rolled around on his back in between both men, Bucky strapped him into his work harness. He fumbled with the zipper on the bag and angrily yanked it off his shoulder. Steve noted his partner’s short fuse. 

“All good?” Steve asked, hating the way he asked the question. Clearly, everything was not good and he had no idea how to help. 

Bucky grunted and knelt in the dirt, stuffing Watson’s paws into shoes. They walked in silence towards the subway. 

***

“We can go home.” 

Bucky tightened his grip on the harness. “No.” 

“It’s okay.” The usually bustling streets were blocked from vehicle traffic with large barricades. 

The farmer’s market held a variety of artisanal products in addition to the best blueberries to come out of the tristate area. Stevie could eat a bushel by himself. Bucky could tolerate a handful in his oatmeal, so they decided to stop and stock up. “There’s a lot of people today.” 

Watson pressed the length of his body into Bucky’s legs. “No. That’s not the plan.” Bucky lost feeling in his fingers, a sign of an impending panic attack. 

“Buck, there isn’t a plan today. Sundays’ are loosey goosey. There’s nowhere we have to be.” Steve wiggled his arms in a dance-like gesture and nearly knocked over a carton of zucchini. 

“But you want to be here.” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. 

“I want to be where you are.” Steve reached for his partner. “It doesn’t matter what we do.” 

Bucky choked on a sob. Emotions were crashing over him, he couldn’t articulate what he wanted to say. He did not have the language to describe his thoughts. “It does. It does. It does. It does.” Bucky began pounding his head with closed fists. 

Watson pressed two paws to Bucky’s chest, licking at his face. He whined, trying to interrupt the behavior. Steve eased his partner to the graveled ground. 

***

“Hey man, do you need me to call someone?” One of the vendors bent over Watson. Steve tried to glare at him, but Bucky was still striking his head, so he was otherwise occupied. 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” A young woman trilled, grabbing her friend and pointing. 

“I told you! He’s crazy.”

“Aww, cute dog though.” An older woman hunched over to get a better angle with her phone for a picture. 

“Poor puppy.” Someone tsked and tapped their foot impatiently. 

A mountain of a man blocked the sun from Steve’s eyes with his muscled back. “Back off.” The smooth authoritative voice cut through the chatter. “Now.” His voice lowered an octave, noting the seriousness of the situation.

“Luke?” Steve turned towards the Harlem vigilante. A pale woman who smelled like she bathed in a distillery blew past him and planted herself next to Cage. She drew herself up to her full height and set her hands on her hips. 

He crossed his arms and cracked his neck. “Is he alright?” 

“Stupid question.” Jessica snapped. “What do you think?” 

“Watch it, Jones.” Luke tugged on an ear loop of his mask. “I only came here because you promised me key limes.” 

Jessica flipped him off and glared at a woman trying to sneak a picture of the notorious Winter Soldier. “No, I said I’d give you the money for better limes. I don’t know why you dragged me to this hipster street fair.” 

“Can you get us a ride?” Steve interrupted. He was in the process of loosening Bucky’s grip on his hair. If they didn’t get out of here, he wasn’t confident he could ground his partner. 

Jones quirked an eyebrow. “Sure. Romanov taught me how to hotwire anything with an engine.”

“Legally, please.” Steve was losing the last of his patience. “We’ve been photographed enough already.” He snapped a pair of headphones over Bucky’s head. Under normal circumstances, Bucky would want to be completely aware of his surroundings. Steve knew from a not so great experience that the more people he could hear in his current state, might trigger Soldat-like behaviors. Assassin-adjacent activity was the last thing a Sunday morning market needed. 

“On it.” Luke answered, snapping a bystander’s phone in half. He studied the opposite side of the street for cabs. 

Several people shouted indignantly. “That’s our cue.” Steve muttered as more people joined the crowd of onlookers. 

Jones judged the distance between them and an idling cab. “Is he gonna punch me?” Steve shook his head and untangled Watson’s leash from Bucky’s torso. She effortlessly tugged Barnes into an upright position with one arm around his waist. 

Steve hefted Bucky into his arms and nodded to Jess. “I got him. Watson, go with Jones. It’s okay bud.” 

His tail wagged and he tugged the woman towards his partner. “Whoa.” She leaned back to try and slow the dog down. He was on a mission; his only thought was to get to Bucky. He deserved a lot of peanut butter when they got home. 

Luke tapped on the roof of the cab and it lurched from the curb, merging with traffic. Jessica argued with the driver, using several offensive hand gestures to explain the Americans with Disabilities Act. 

Steve managed to stifle his amused smile as he held Bucky in the backseat. Watson licked at his arms, pausing every so often to see if Bucky would respond. 

“We’re going home Buck.” Steve tucked his partner’s head under his chin, rocking slightly as the cab sped towards Stark Tower. 

Bucky blinked, his face wiped of emotion. He did not react as Steve stroked his arm. 

Steve lightly trailed his nails along the inside of his palm. Bucky was ticklish, he almost always pulled away from that touch. 

No reaction. 

Steve closed his eyes and forced himself to breath. They just had to get home. Everything would be okay. A warm tongue licked at his arm. Steve smiled. “You’re right Wats, we got this.” 

***

Bucky woke in stages. The first time, he had registered Steve’s heartbeat before the meds pulled him back to sleep. The next time he woke, he heard the pages of a book turn and felt Watson curled in the space between the couch and the bend in his knees. Each time he opened his eyes, the world became more concrete. 

“Punk.” 

Steve glanced down at his lap. “Jerk.” He tucked a folded tissue into the book he was reading to mark his place. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

He shrugged. “Okay. I feel bad that I messed up our morning.” 

“There were no plans this morning. It’s a weekend.” 

“But you wanted to get blueberries at the Farmer’s Market.” 

Steve dropped the book on the floor. Watson sniffed at Bucky’s head and then dug his nose into his ear. 

“See? Even Watson knows how ridiculous that sounds.” 

Bucky laughed. “Okay, fine. Thanks for the cleaning bubba.” Watson sneezed all over Bucky’s face. “I still feel bad.” 

“I know.” Steve said after a beat. “But this isn’t your fault. Let’s do something fun. We can debrief and process later.” 

Bucky nodded against Steve’s thigh. “True. Tomorrow’s a therapy day. I’ve got to journal later.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “We could bake something?”

Bucky wrinkled this nose. His stomach revolted at the very idea of the kitchen. “Not ready for food.” His voice wobbled and he felt like shit for shooting down Steve’s culinary idea. 

“Puzzle?” Steve asked, looking at the kitchen table. He seemed unfazed by Bucky’s rejection and moved on to another activity. 

“Yeah.” Bucky could take this step. He pulled Steve off the couch. They stood chest to chest and Bucky’s body resisted the proximity. He hated himself for the reaction and dug the prosthetic into his forearm. 

Steve gently took his hand and squeezed. “Watson you gotta stay here. Little Witch will be very upset if you eat another jigsaw.” Bucky didn’t flinch at the touch. He squeezed back as they walked to the table. Sometimes words weren’t needed to communicate. 

The dog huffed and stretched onto his side, undoubtedly happy to have the entire couch to himself.


End file.
